An Amorous Disposition
by Katriella Rosewood
Summary: When Princess Cressida finds that her brother has fallen in love, she casts aside the troubles and worries of her own heart to make him happy. She soon succeeds in her goal but feels as if she is left wanting. When she comes to realize that the love she has come to cherish is about to be ripped from her grasp, she musters up all the courage in her soul to protect it forevermore.
1. Chapter 1

I was running. Faster. Faster. I ran till my breaths came in short gasps. I ran till my legs were ready to give out. My heart was racing. My chest was ready to explode. But still, I kept running. Trees were flying by. Birds and other animals scattered before we could trample them.

"Wait! Cress! You've won! Stop, please," my brother said from behind me.

"Not till we get to the king's highway!" I shouted over my shoulder.

Then, about ten feet from the highway, I stopped. A carriage was coming down the old road; it was a royal carriage. I caught my brother's arm as he ran past, jerking him to a stop. He looked back at me, questioning my abrupt halt. I put a finger to my lips, pointing to the carriage.

I looked down the road, to the right. A man was standing in the middle of it, a black mask covering his eyes, sword in hand. The carriage stopped in front of him, and the driver yelled words of a different language.

The highwayman's eyebrows rose. "Galadorian, are we? No matter. Hand over the gold and be done with it." When the driver did not respond, he flicked his sword at the poor man. The driver got down.

Going to the carriage window, he tapped on it. The highwayman stepped forward. My brother put his hand on his sword, but I smacked his arm, and he muttered a soft oath. The highwayman's head whipped toward us, scanning the trees for soldiers. Clearly anxious to leave, he advanced on the old man. My brother drew his sword, but I was quicker. Drawing two of my daggers, I was on him in an instant.

I knocked the sword from his hand with one dagger. Holding a blade against his throat, I said, "Get off this highway, now. If I ever catch you thieving again, it won't be your hand I'll have them cut off."

"You've no right." He said.

"Really?" He nodded. "Look at my face and say that again."

After I took my knife away, he turned. Seeing my face, his eyes grew wide. "Princess Cressida." He swallowed audibly. Then his eyes narrowed. "You're just a silly girl. What harm could you possibly do?" He pushed me to the ground, roughly. Turning around, the carriage door opened swiftly, knocking him on his hands and knees, away from the carriage. The shock on his face was soon smothered by rage. He leapt to his feet, only to find a dagger at his throat once more. He tried to turn and run, but I caught his ankle, bringing his face to meet the moist, brown earth of the forest.

"That will teach you to never underestimate the princess," said a thickly accented voice. My body tensed. I knew that voice. It was older and deeper, perhaps, but I knew that voice like I knew my own. A hard jerk of my arm brought me back to reality. I still had ahold of the thief's ankle. Nicholas, my brother, put a foot on the man's back to hold him to the ground, pointing his sword to his neck.

I looked up at the man getting out of the carriage. He was as handsome as I remembered. His chiseled features stood out amidst the tan skin, black hair, and searing green eyes. "Philippe?" I stared at the Galadorian prince, dumbstruck.

He chuckled at my expression. "Hello Iddie."

I glared at him. "Don't you dare call me that."

Nicholas looked at me questioningly. "Why the hostility?"

I glowered at him. "Tie him to a tree. I'll have the guards come get him."

"But, Cressy-" Nick started.

"What?" I turned on him.

"We don't have any rope."

"So sit on him." And I started running to the palace.

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_Hello readers! (If there are any) This is my first story, so Please tell me if it's any good or not. =) Thanks for reading._


	2. Chapter 2

As I ran, I remembered. Philippe was my best friend. We had grown up together. Our fathers were constantly with each other, protecting or expanding our two countries. Our mothers had hopes of marrying us. But one day our fathers had a falling out. His father wanted to invade and already too powerful country, but my father would not risk the safety of his country this time. Furious, he told his wife and son to say their goodbyes.

Philippe's goodbye was heartbreaking. I was eleven, and unknown to him, I had already fallen in love with him. He was thirteen at the time.

It was a cloudy day, almost as if it was fitted for the occasion. Philippe walked into the meadow, where I had been reading. Seeing him, I jumped to my feet and ran to greet him. When I hugged him, he was cold and unyielding.

I stepped back. "What's wrong?" I asked him.

"Nothing. Why would there be something wrong?" His voice was expressionless.

I frowned at him. "You are acting strange today."

"No I'm not." He stared past me.

This is not my Philippe, I thought. I pulled on his hand. "Come on, let's go do something!" He wouldn't move. I pulled harder. "Philippe! What is wrong with you? Have I done something?"

He looked at me strangely. "You've done nothing. It's me. I don't want you anymore."

"Don't want me anymore?" I repeated. "What do you mean by that?" I was panicking. What was I supposed to do if my best friend didn't want me? Spend time with my brother? I shivered. I wouldn't want to be with him. He would just put mud in my hair. Or worse.

"Exactly what I said. I don't want you anymore. Leave me alone, Cressida. I don't want to see you again!" He started walking back to the palace.

"Wait!" I grabbed his hand.

Turning, he jerked his hand out of mine, his green eyes livid. Never before had I seen him so angry. "Do not touch me _Princess._ You are nothing more than an irritating child."

I stepped back. Tears started brimming in my eyes. Guilt briefly flickered in his eyes. But it was just that. A flicker. He turned and walked away from me. My heart began to shatter. I was in my chambers for weeks on end, just lying there, staring out my window. Even my brother was worried for me. I never told anyone what he said to me. I just let them think that I was hurt because of his leaving. That was the last time I saw him.

But now he was back. I did not know what to think. Especially when he used my old nickname. I used to melt when he called me "Iddie". Now all I felt was pain. And anger.

Once I neared the guardhouse I slowed. A soldier came out to greet me.

"What news, my lady?" He asked after bowing. He knew I hated the formalities of being a princess, though, I suspected that he did it to irritate me.

"Stop that, Daniel," I said.

"Stop what, my lady?" He asked innocently.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh never mind. Anyway, Nicholas and I caught a highway man about a mile down the road."

"A highwayman?" He seemed alarmed, his blue eyes wide under a brown mop of hair. I nodded. "You left a highwayman with the heir to the throne?" He half shouted this.

"Prince Philippe of Galadoria is with him." I said.

He stared at me for a few seconds. "Oh yes, Prince Philippe. Why didn't you say so in the first place?! Now we have to look out for _two_ future kings!" He yelled for two of his men and rushed into the stables, grabbing three horses, and they took off down the road.

I supposed I should have felt guilty. After all, if anything were to happen to my brother, it would be Daniel's fault for not looking after him close enough.

I was about to go after them when I heard my mother.

"Cressida!" She yelled. "Where have you been? I've been looking high and low for you, girl! Where is Nicholas?" She grabbed my arm and steered me towards the palace. "That boy should be looking after you better. He is your brother—Good God."

I looked up from the cobblestones. I did not understand my mother's abrupt halt. A sudden pain in my arm brought my gaze downward. It was bleeding profusely through the white shirt I had taken from Nicholas this morning. "Wha... I don't understand." I looked up at my mother's face. Her large dark eyes were cast down at the object in her hand. It was a tiny blade, smaller than my own daggers. My mother looked up at me, fear in her eyes.

"Get inside," She demanded calmly. "Now."

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_So the second chapter is up =) I hope at least some of you reading this like it enough to keep reading! Please review for me. =)_


	3. Chapter 3

"Ouch! That hurt Cuthbert!" The old man glared at me.

"Well of course it hurt, you twit." His old mouth was always frowning as he worked. In fact, I don't think I'd ever seen him smile. "You always get hurt, young lady. And when you come to me, you always say the same thing. '_Ouch that hurts Cuthbert_'" He said, trying to imitate my voice. Which he was doing very poorly at. I did _not _sound like that. "You need to be more careful. You're the princess. One day, you'll have to make a powerful alliance for this country." When I started grumbling, he prodded my wound a little too hard. I hissed in pain. "Shut it, you. I'm trying to give you advice." When he was satisfied that my mouth would remain closed for the time being, he went on, sewing the cut on my upper arm together. "You don't know what you'll find in another prince, Cressy. You might even get to marry for love if you're lucky. But you have to think of what's best for the people of this country. They are your people. They are _your_ responsibility. Not just your father's or your brother's." When he had finished wrapping my arm, he patted my shoulder. "There. All done. You are free to go." His eyes crinkled and his mouth turned up at the edges. I stared at him in dumb shock. Was he… No, it couldn't be. He still looked grumpy. It must have been a reverse frown or something.

I stood up and walked out of the room. As I started walking through the corridor, I heard someone chuckle. That could _not _have been Cuthbert. Cuthbert did _not _chuckle. I heard footsteps running up behind me. Turning, I saw my brother. He looked concerned.

"Cress! What's wrong? I heard you had been wounded." He said, gripping my shoulders. His blue eyes were flooded with guilt. "Oh god, it's all my fault."

I rolled my eyes, snapping out of my reverie. "Oh get over it, Nick. It's fine, just a scratch."

His brow creased. "Then why was your face like that just now?"

"Oh, it looked like Cuthbert smiled. And then I heard him chuckle." Nick looked confused. "I mean, it couldn't have been him, right? Someone else must have laughed. And he must have frowned. He never smiles." Nick nodded in agreement, deep in thought.

"Well, I will see you at dinner." I started towards the library.

Nick ran after me. "Wait! Mother says you have to get dresses properly for our guest."

My heart stopped at the same time as my feet. "Philippe?" I turned, begging my brother not to say it.

His eyes were sympathetic, but he nodded. My rigid heart sank to the pit of my stomach. I leaned my head against the cold stone wall beside me. "What if I say I won't go?"

He looked to the side. "Then I would say I couldn't find you, I suppose. However, I believe Phil would know that I was lying and he would know you were a coward."

My head snapped up. "How would he know anything about me?" Venom laced my words like a snake slithering through sand.

"Because I am standing behind you Iddie." I almost jumped out of my skin. Turning, slowly, I faced him. He was heart-wrenchingly beautiful, just as he had always been. He smiled. "Come now, Iddie. You can't avoid me forever."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course not, you keep popping up out of thin air." Suddenly and self-consciously remembering my disheveled appearance, I brushed past him. "Excuse me. I need to go change." I walked swiftly back to my room and shut the door. Leaning against it, I slid down to the floor. This was going to be hell.

Getting up, I started towards my wardrobe. Despite being in line for the throne, I really didn't have many clothes. I don't wear dresses much, so I mostly have pants and shirts. I picked one of the lighter colored dresses, a sea-foam green, and piled my hair on top of my head in a loose bun. My mother would be irritated, but the more the better. If she was going to torture me without my knowledge as to why, then I was certainly going to be a nuisance to her overbearing nature.

Walking out of my room, I nearly ran straight into Philippe. He stepped back, startled. With the position of his fist at the level of his eyes, I grew quite certain that he was about to knock on my door, and invite me to dinner, no less.

I glared at him. "What do you want?" I asked, trying to match the tone of my voice to my expression.

The startled expression on his face soon registered irritation. "I only wanted to escort you to dinner. Is that too much to ask?" He had the nerve to look a bit hurt.

"I don't know why you would want to ask an _irritating child_ to dinner, my _prince._" I practically spat the words at him, mirroring his own devastating words from all those years ago.

Regret flashed across his features. "Cressida. Please. Let me explain to you," he begged. "I had no choice!" He shouted after me with his heart-breakingly beautiful accent. I kept walking though, all the way down to the dining hall. I would not fall prey to my weak heart once more.

As I walked into the autumn colored room, the last few rays of sunshine protruded through the windows, piercing the wall beyond. One of the servants, Johanna, rushed to the curtains, closing them, when she saw my mother squinting at her place mat. Another servant, Aliah, scurried around lighting candles. My mother looked up and smiled at each of them, saying "Thank you Johanna, Aliah." She nodded at the both of them.

"You're welcome, your majesty," they said in unison. Going back to their duties, Johanna looked up at me. "Good evening, miss."

"Hello Johanna," I said, smiling at her. Usually she called me by my first name, but never in front of my parents.

Once I was seated at the table, across from Nicholas and my mother, Philippe walked in. He seated himself next to me, smiling at my mother. My father, who was sitting at the head of the table, nodded to him in greeting.

Among the tinkling of spoons and other utensils, my mother asked, "So Philippe, how is your dear mother?"

He looked up. "She is well. She hasn't been the same since we left here, however." He said, looking down at his soup.

My mother nodded. "None of us have. You should have seen poor Cres—" she looked up, startled, when my spoon clattered to my bowl. "Are you well, dear?" she asked, false concern barely masking her anger.

"Yes, mother." I said dejectedly. There was no stopping my mother when she wanted something, let alone wanted to say something.

"As I was saying, you should have seen Cressida when you left. She was bedridden for weeks. She barely ate, she wouldn't talk to anyone. I feared we might lose her." She looked at my father, who was staring absentmindedly at the far wall.

Nicholas piped up, asking how Philippe had been faring. He had to ask him more than once, however, on account that he wasn't paying any attention. I elbowed him in the arm, startling him out of his reverie. He looked up and answered all that was asked of him. I found that he had been busy beyond belief, stepping into his role as prince, and future king, of Galadoria. The rest of dinner passed by quickly during the conversation and I glanced at Philippe once or twice. He appeared friendly enough, but I could see an emotion he was trying to hide. After dessert, Philippe pulled my chair out for me as I tried to stand up.

"May I walk you to your chambers, princess?" Philippe asked. Annoyance crept across my features as I looked towards Nicholas. He glared at me, daring me to say no.

I glared up at Philippe. "Fine." I started out of the dining room, Philippe trailing close behind. I wound through the maze of hallways, rounding each corner at a brisk pace. When I neared my room, Philippe caught ahold of my arm.

"Cressida, please." His eyes held an anguish in their green depths. My heart was pounding against my chest, trying in vain to get to the one thing it loved most in this world. I wouldn't let it. I would not let this amorous disposition take hold of me once more. It had nearly killed me the last time.

"What do you want from me Philippe?" I asked, my voice full of venom. "You leave me, basically telling me that you hate me, and now you want to talk? Forgive me if I seem biased _prince._"

Against my better judgment, I ran to my room and slammed the door, leaving the man of my dream, nay my heart, out in the hallway, staring brokenly at the stone floor.

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_So here's chapter 3! I hope you've enjoyed my story so far, if at all. =) If you could please give me some feedback, whether it be positive or negative, I would thank you kindly. =)_


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up with a start. My body was covered in sweat, and yet my bedroom was freezing. My mind was still foggy from sleep, but through the cloudy, jumbled mess I remember wondering what had woken me up. Sitting up, I looked around, feeling the presence of another person, and yet, there was no one to be found. In a sleepy haze, I meandered over to my bedroom window and shut the glass doors tightly. I stepped out into the corridor, intending to head down to the kitchens for a drink of water and a snack, but instead I was faced with the cold hard ground.

I groaned in pain. "What the…"

I heard an intake of breath behind me. "Cressy?" Philippe slurred. "Why are you lying on the floor?"

"Oh, you know. It just seemed like it would be a comfortable place to sleep." I rolled my eyes.

He stood up and offered me his hand. "Well that's odd. I'd rather have a soft bed." I took his hand and hissed in pain when he pulled me up, though he didn't seem to notice. The pain went away and I cast it aside in my mind, thinking it nothing.

"I'm going to the kitchens." I said, disentangling my hand from his. "You should go to bed."

He looked down at me. "I'm a little hungry myself. I'll escort you." He smiled, holding out his arm to me.

I rolled my eyes and walked past him. Philippe, of course, followed me. I've no idea why, but I slowed my pace to accommodate him. As we walked, I asked, "Why... why were you outside my bedroom?" I realized only then how close I had been to asking something else. I closed my eyes briefly and tried in vain to calm down my traitorous heartbeat.

Philippe looked down at me. "I was waiting for you to come out again. You used to do that. We'd get in fights and you'd slam the door and come back out again when you-"

"I know what I did, Philippe." I snapped. "I also remember what you did..." I muttered under my breath.

His step faltered a bit. He looked down and muttered something under his breath as well, though I couldn't make out what exactly he'd said. I looked up at him quizzically, but looked away swiftly as he turned his head towards mine.

When I got to the kitchens, I found a bit of cheese and started picking off pieces to pop in my mouth. I found a wooden cup and pumped water into it. Letting the cool liquid trickle down my throat, I turned to look at Philippe. There was still a spark of anger and hurt every time I looked at him now. I frowned at him. He was staring at the floor, oblivious to my disgruntled expression.

"Cress..." He began, sounding weary. "I want you to know something." He still didn't look up.

I was still hot, for some reason, even though I had downed the cup of water without hesitation. Philippe's words began to sound slurred, and my vision became increasingly blurred. Feeling dizzy, I gripped the counter for support, dropping my cup in the process. My legs suddenly felt like two leaden weights. I began to lose feeling in my arms, then my hands, and suddenly I crashed to the floor. But I didn't feel it. My world turned to black as I heard Philippe call out.

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I know this is a short chapter, sorry =/ but I tried to make it as long as I could. The next chapter should be up soon (hopefully). So Enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5 (Philippe)

My head snapped up as I heard her cup clatter to the floor. She looked like a child's limp doll as she fell to the floor. I ran over to her. Putting my hand to her face, I pulled back, hissing as my cold hand was immediately warmed by her heat-radiating body. She looked so peaceful, laying there on the cold, hard ground. Her red hair was splayed out beneath her head, her coral colored lips parted just so. I placed my hand on her flawless face once more, wincing at the temperature that invaded my flesh.

"Cressida? Iddie wake up. Please." She never even fluttered an eyelash. I silently placed my hands underneath her body and lifted her, carrying her out of the kitchen. My heart nearly stopped as I glanced down at her limp body so close to my own. I carried her down the winding corridors, practically running in my panicked state, until I had come to Cuthbert's chambers. Cringing at my rudeness, I kicked the lower part of the door in an attempt at knocking. I heard a grumbling from within, along with something clattering to the floor.

"WHO IS IT?" Cuthbert yelled.

"Cuthbert, please, open the door." I said.

"Why? You hurt?"

"No, but I-"

"GO AWAY!"

"Cuthbert! Please!" There was silence on the other side of the door. I heard the rustling of sheets. "Cuthbert! It's Cressida! Open the door! NOW!" I heard more grumbling and then, finally, I was met with the most withering glare I'd ever seen. Ignoring that, I shoved past him and put Cress on the spare bed.

"What happened?" He ground out, beginning his examination.

I was glad he wasn't one to jump to conclusions. "I'm not sure. She just collapsed. She's extremely warm, though."

I watched Cuthbert continue his examination with a rapidly beating heart. "Will she be alright?" He immediately hushed me.

For a moment he froze as his eyes trailed up her arm "No…" he whispered. My heart skipped a beat. "It can't be." He turned and rushed over to his cabinet of medicine. He seemed terribly nervous as his shaking fingers searched for the right flask. He cried out as his fingers came in contact with the elusive bottle. Grabbing it, he scuttled back to the girl before me. He thrust the tiny glass decanter into my hands. "Hold this," he grunted.

He quickly pulled the night gown off her shoulder, carefully, so as not to expose any provocative piece of flesh. He grabbed a pair of shears and cut through the bandage on her upper arm. I gasped at what I saw. The angry red flesh around the tiny cut quickly sprouted outwards into black veins so spider-like I had barely seen them before he took off the gauze.

Cuthbert nodded, as if in agreement with himself. "Uncork the flask." He rasped out. I quickly did as I was told and handed it to him. He placed three drops in her mouth, and three drops in her wound.

"What is it?" I was terrified to know the answer, not able to slow my rapidly beating heart.

Cuthbert sat down hard on a stool next to the bed. For the first time in my life, I saw true emotion on the man's face, and considering all the trips here with Cressida, it was something to remark upon. Worry staggered his features as he began to explain, "Three centuries ago, there was a monk who was trying to find a cure to the plague. In doing so, he unintentionally produced a poison. It was unlike any other poison he had ever known. When he tested it, to his utter devastation as he did not know _what_ he had made, he realized that it would dry up the salivary glands, making the victim extremely thirsty. When he gave the patient water, the patient died within the hour, right before his eyes. He figured out that the manmade poison would slowly travel throughout the victim, until it came into contact with water, which reacted as a sort of catalyst, hurtling it through the blood vessels at a rapid pace. It was then that the poison became lethal. Fearing the effects of the poison, the monk created an antidote, so much that it was spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms; almost every healer has a vial of it. Even as he did this, however, he buried the poison in a place so bottomless and distant; no one has ever found it. Until now, that is. I cannot fathom who would have the ability to find it, unless…" He began muttering under his breath.

I was about to lean closer and catch a few words when I saw Cressida stir out of the corner of my eye. I immediately jumped up and quickly scrambled to her side. I clutched her hand as I watched her eyelids flutter. "Phil…" I heard her whisper. She squeezed my hand for a single moment. "Go away Nick…" She rasped out. "I'm trying to sleep…" She kept muttering incoherently, but I wasn't listening as I couldn't help the crazy grin spreading over my face. My heart had felt so heavy until now; I felt as if I was as light as a feather with giddiness.

I glanced up at Cuthbert and saw he wore a small, sad, hesitant smile. My brow furrowed, but he waved me off and abandoned the stool for his warm bed. Without letting go of Cressida's hand, I pulled the stool closer to her bedside. I knew she might hate me for it in the morning, but she had said _my_ name, was holding _my_ hand, and I was going to savor it for as long as I possibly could.

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Hey Guys! Sorry this is so late! =( I'm a horrible person.. But let me know what you think!


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